Camera One
by November Rain 19
Summary: Who do we blame when life turns out not how we expect it? Songfic. Tai/Yamato and Mimi/Sora


Camera One Author's Notes: This has been kicking around in my head for a little while and I finally got around to it. Dream sequence is in _italics. _Lyrics have been centered. 

Disclaimer: Song belongs to The Josh Joplin Group. I'm just borrowing it. I also might do fics of other songs of theirs in the near future. 

Warnings: Shonen-ai and shojo-ai. (Taito and Mira)   
  
  


Camera One   
by Melissa   


The sandy haired son of Hollywood   
Lost his faith in all that's good   
Closed the curtain unplugged the clock   
Hung his clothes on the shower rod   
But he never got undressed   
And no he never made a mess 

It's funny how life turns out   
The odds of faith in the face of doubt   
Camera one closes in   
The soundtrack starts and the scene begins   
You're playing you now   
Take a bow. Take a bow 

  


Yamato, struggling slightly, unlocked the door to the hotel room. Stumbling forward, he allowed his small suitcase to fall to the floor. He glanced around. 

'Yes,' he thought, 'This will do nicely.' 

Throwing his key on the night stand, he picked up the suitcase and put it on the bed. Opening it up, he began to remove the few articles of clothing he had brought with him. He briefly wondered why he had even bothered to pack anything. 

Yamato had been in a successful band when he was a teenager. During one of their performances, someone had approached Yamato. He was a talent scout and had told the young blonde that he had 'stage presence.' The scout also said that Yamato had a chance to be extremely successful in America, but as an actor not as a musician. 

The Keeper of Friendship was polite and took the man's card with his phone number on it. He thought his friends were playing some sort of joke on him. A few days later, he called the number, and was surprised to find out that it was anything but a joke. After much discussion with his family, Yamato thought that he should take this chance. He and his father would move to America, where Yamato would work as an actor while being tutored to complete his education. 

That had been fifteen years ago. At thirty two years old, Yamato was very successful. He had over twenty major movies to his credit, which he was paid handsomely for. He was also married and lived in a nice house in Burbank. He had recently landed the lead role in what was slated to be one of the greatest movies of all time. 

By all accounts, Yamato Ishida should have been happy with his life. 

But he wasn't. 

Yamato shut the empty suitcase and put it on the floor. He sat on the bed and ran his fingers though his hair. After a few moments, he laid back and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't long before he fell into a troubled sleep, one with a dream that had haunted him every night since he left Japan. 

_He stood at the airport, surrounded by friends and family. He was finally leaving. He was finally on his way. Something had been nagging Yamato for a little while. Though he was happy, he felt he wasn't as happy as he ought to be. For the life of him, he couldn't pinpoint why._

_Everyone had tears in their eyes. Everyone said their individual good-byes to him and then began to disperse. The numbers wound down until only two people were left. Sora approached him and gave him a hug._

_"Yamato?"_

_"Yes, Sora?"_

_She avoided his eyes. "Do you think you could do me a favor?"_

_Yamato smiled slightly. Even at 17, Sora was still a little shy._

_"Sure Sora. Anything."_

_"Well, since you're going to America, I thought there might be a chance that you'd be in contact with Mimi. When, or if, you do see her, would you give this to her for me?" Sora produced a pick envelope._

_Yamato took it and smiled. "Absolutely," he replied. He gingerly touched her cheek with his hand. With tears in her eyes, she turned and walked away._

_Yamato turned his attention to the final remaining person. He regarded Yamato with a cool stare._

_"So, this is it," he said, his voice thick with emotion._

_The boy with cobalt eyes stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the thin muscular frame of his friend. Yamato stoked Taichi's hair as the boy broke down and sobbed. Yamato felt his own tears begin to form, but he rapidly blinked them away. He would have been content to stay lost in this moment forever._

_'Some things aren't meant to be,' he thought, cursing the higher powers for letting him fall in love with someone he couldn't be with._

_Yamato gently broke the embrace and took one last, long look at his friend. Taichi did the same. Slowly, Yamato turned and headed towards the gate._

_"Don't go," Taichi whispered, almost too quietly to be heard._

_Yamato stopped in his tracks. It would have been so easy to turn around and run right back into Taichi's arms, and forget all about America._

_He couldn't do it though._

_So Yamato Ishida did the hardest thing he's ever had to do in his life. He continued walking and boarded the plane._

_He never looked back._

Yamato awoke with a start. His heart hammered against his chest as he frantically looked around. He was still in his tenth floor hotel room. 

A strangled sob escaped his lips as he recalled the dream that had been haunting him all these years. The tears came again, and he did nothing to stop them.   


The trophy wife of Palisades   
Whose yearbook beauty never fades   
Sits and watches the scene fold in   
And wonders what might have been   
If she could ever have the chance   
Would she do it all again? 

It's funny how life turns out   
The odds of faith in the face of doubt   
Camera one closes in   
The soundtrack starts and the scene begins   
You're playing you now   
Take a bow. Take a bow 

  


Mimi sat in a chair off of the set of her new movie. She stared at the pandemonium that ensued. She had been set to star opposite of Yamato in the film, which began shooting today. The only problem was that Yamato was no where to be found. Out of the corner of her eye, Mimi saw the director stalking towards her. 

"Mimi!! Where the hell is that husband of yours?! Is he trying to ruin us??" 

The irate director continued ranting, but Mimi had tuned him out. She smiled at herself, somewhat bitterly. Yes, she and Yamato were married, but they were far from being husband and wife. The whole thing had been more of a business merger than anything else. They had never been romantically involved, they just put on an act for everyone else. 

'Acting,' she mused to herself. 'Well, that's certainly what we are good at, isn't it?' 

Mimi picked up her purse, intending to locate her cell phone. As she fished around, her fingers brushed against something familiar. Closing her hand around it, she lifted it out of the confines of her bag. 

She lifted the faded pink envelope and stared at it a moment. Yamato had given it to her when he had arrived in America, stopping in New York first before heading out to California. It had been from Sora. 

And Mimi had never opened it. 

Her name was still faintly visible on the front after all these years, written by the hand of the person Mimi loved more than anything. She carried the letter with her everywhere she went. 

Part of her wanted desperately to tear open the envelope and read what was inside. Another part of her thought it best for the past to remain buried. 

Mimi remembered the day she left for America, which had been almost nineteen years ago. She also recalled the sad look on Sora's face as she was leaving. Mimi had a hard time looking at her friend, because inside her heart was breaking. She had promised to stay in touch, but had broken that promise all too swiftly. Sora had constantly called and written, wondering what she had done wrong or what had Mimi so angry with her. 

Mimi wasn't angry with Sora though, she was angry with herself. Angry that she couldn't come to terms with the fact that she had fallen in love with her best friend, who also happened to be a girl. 

'A woman now,' Mimi chided herself mentally. 

Eventually the letters and calls soon stopped all together. The last one Mimi now held in her hands 

The Keeper of Sincerity thought that maybe she could move on and forget about the auburn haired woman who could make her feel things she had never felt before. 

Mimi never did forget though. Almost two decades had passed and she still couldn't get Sora out of her mind. 

Sighing, she slipped her finger under the flap of the envelope. Gently, she ripped open the envelope and removed a piece of paper. Unfolding it, she read. 

As she did so, tears formed at the corners of her eyes, eventually tracing their way down her cheeks as she clutched the letter to her chest. 

She had missed her chance. 

She wished now more than ever that she could turn back time. 

  


On the corner by the street   
He sits in a lawn chair in the heat   
And sightseers see what they want   
He's selling star maps to the sun 

  


Taichi Kamiya wiped the sweat that was accumulating on his brow. It was incredibly hot, sitting out underneath the noon day sun. 

Taichi had had a run of bad luck. He was recruited right of high school to play professional soccer in the United States. When he was eighteen, he had been on top of the world. 

However, after a few seasons of mediocrity, he suffered a career ending injury to his knee. It was absolutely devastating. The money he had earned while playing all too quickly disappeared. Ever since then, he had been working his way across the country from one small job to the next. The only thing he brought with his was a backpack. Inside were pictures of his family, and several video cassettes. The tapes contained movies starring the sandy haired man that Taichi loved. 

Now, here he was, sitting in a lawn chair, trying to earn a few dollars by selling maps to the star's homes. He didn't get very much business, but occasionally someone would buy a map, most probably out of pity. There was one map in his collection that he would not sell. He kept it in the inside pocket of his tattered jacket, right next to his heart. His lifted his hand and patted the spot on his chest. 

'Tonight. Tonight I will go and see him,' he thought as he watched the people pass by. 'I've missed you so much Yamato.' 

Taichi ran his hand through his chocolate hair, wondering if Yamato had missed him as much as he missed Yamato. 

  


The sandy haired son of Hollywood   
Lost his faith in all that's good   
Closed the curtain unplugged the clock   
Hung his clothes in the shower rod   
Though he didn't get undressed   
And he didn't seem depressed 

  


Yamato stepped out onto the balcony, shutting the sliding door behind him. Deftly, he stepped up onto the ledge of the balcony. The sun was just setting behind the buildings as he observed the skyline. He once would have considered the scene breathtaking, but now it was just painful. The reds, yellows and oranges just reminded him of the fire that burned inside the Keeper of Courage. 

And of the love that raged inside of his heart. 

He wanted to blame someone for the way things have turned out. Perhaps he could hate the Powers That Be for charting this course for his life. 

Then again, maybe it wasn't anyone's fault but his. We all have to live with the consequences of our actions. 

Yamato wiped his eyes and stood there, letting the cool breeze caress the bare skin of his face. He wondered what they would say. Maybe that is was unexpected, or tragic even. Why would a young man who had everything do such a thing? 

'But I don't have everything,' Yamato thought as a fresh wave of tears came. 

Placing one arm behind his back and one across his midsection, Yamato took a bow to the imaginary crowd. It would be his final one. 

He then let himself fall.   


It's funny how life turns out   
The odds of faith in the face of doubt   
Camera one closes in   
The soundtrack starts and the scene begins   
You're playing you now   
Take a bow. Take a bow 

Take a bow 

The End   


More Author's Notes: Hopefully this marks the beginning of the end of my writer's block. What did you think of it? I was thinking maybe of continuing it, but I'm not sure. In any case, until next time.   


For all sad words of tongue and pen   
The saddest are these:   
'It might have been.' - John Greenleaf Whittier   
  
  



End file.
